


Running Away (M!DB/Cicero)

by Nudebeme



Series: Chac and Cicero [15]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-09
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:12:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1591211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nudebeme/pseuds/Nudebeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Here I’m allowed everything all of the time" .. angst warning</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Away (M!DB/Cicero)

_"I’ll laugh until my head comes off_   
_I’ll swallow till I burst, until I burst, until I…_   
  
_Who’s in a bunker? Who’s in a bunker?_   
_I’ve seen too much, I haven’t seen enough, you haven’t seen_   
_I’ll laugh until my head comes off_   
_Women and children first and children first and children…_   
  
_Here I’m allowed everything all of the time” -Idiotique, Radiohead_

~

 

 _“_ Tell me about your family, the one that came before this one.” Chac’s question was double edged, he knew there was gravity in the Jester’s past, but certainly the man he once was loved the family that once hid away below the Lucky Lady? 

Cicero did a doubletake from the rim of his flagon, tensely sipping his mead and visibly recoiling from the question. Immediately the hardest-hidden memories he quelled came to his mind, the fires and the screams. He carefully lowered his drink and stared at the elf for what seems like a painful pause. 

"Oh Listener, Cicero doesn’t like to talk about them, you already know this.." He didn’t want to start remembering now, not when Chac’s company was bringing him such pleasant bliss until now. "Besides, the Fool of Hearts had had enough trouble forgetting what’s done and who’s gone!"

"But certainly you must still cherish them, the ones from Bravil. You shouldn’t let their memories go unsung." Cicero stared at him and his lip quirked with consideration. Listener always had a way of bringing out the real truth, whether he wanted to speak it or not. Chac leaned far back in his chair and watched the Jester play with the ends of his foolish hat. 

"If the Listener insists, Cicero has quite a few stories to tell." He didn’t think the powerful mer would be interested in such things, but he was starting to ask more of these  _questions_  and Cicero couldn’t say no. He wasn’t allowed to say no. 

"Tell me your favorite story?"

Cicero could only oblige, he dug into the deepest reaches of his memory to before he was Keeper, when he was but an impish young man bearing the black hand of Sithis. Cicero told the elf of his most joyous venture, his most prized kill followed by the party thrown in his honor, his skills praised by nearly a dozen of his close brethren. 

"…Cicero finished a bottle of Stros M’kai rum by himself…and never spewed so hard in his life.." 

The way Cicero spoke, his expressive hands alive in the air before him, reminiscing about the days of his youth. The ones stolen from him, Chac thought. He frowned as Cicero’s voice suddenly broke, watching him reach up to take a heavy pull of his mead. 

"What’s the matter?" He asked, leaning forward and watching the Jester rub at his own throat with gloved hands. Cicero’s eyes averted his own and watched the fire burn before them. 

"Nothing, nothing…Cicero sometimes just thinks back on them and.. _hnk_ …” The madman’s eyes glistened, wincing visibly and hiding his lips behind his wrist. He remembered the fire, his home coming down in embers and the flesh searing off his brother’s and sister’s bones while he hid away helpless. “I cry sometimes..”

"It’s okay to cry, Cicero." Chac said, his voice low and soothing. When he said it that way, the Jester held back a snicker as his eyes only watered more. A lump caught in his throat and he couldn’t think of anything funny to say, not when the elf was staring at him that way. 

"You must miss them dearly.." 

Cicero looked down into his flagon of mead and sucked in a shaken breath. It had been so many years of silence since that fateful day when he lost it all..Cicero thought about them and could only weep, blinking hot tears down his aging face. 

"Cicero sometimes feels like he should have died with them." That would have been ideal, he thought. Nothing could have prepared him for the crippling loneliness that followed the death of his family, or the pain that comes with not being accepted by his new one. 

Chac stood from his chair and Cicero averted his weeping eyes away from his, feeling small. Chac took the flagon out of his little hands and grabbed him, pulling the Jester up to stand. Cicero didn’t resist when the tall elf hugged him, shuddering to the foreign feeling of another body’s warmth. 

"Listener-" He sobs, eyes as red as his hair "W-wh-what’s this?" His tears began to subside, feeling confused in the heavy cloud of his madness. 

"Haven’t you ever been hugged before?" Chac coos, rubbing his back and feeling the old fabric of his Jester tunic slide over his palms. "You’ll be alright, Cicero. Your new family will come around in time, and I’m here for you. You can tell me anything, I’m the Listener after all…and you can cry if you want to."

Cicero hadn’t heard anything like that in forever, and he relaxed the slightest bit into Chac’s arms, and the elf felt it. Cicero was grateful, his Jester hat against Chac’s chin as he leaned his head in against his chest.

"Listener, at last.." He whimpered, and felt a spark of happiness. The wait is over, the Listener has finally been chosen and the Night Mother couldn’t have found a kinder soul..strange, how it all worked… Cicero cherished the warmth from the Listener, who was once just a kind stranger on the road. Always so kind, even after cruelty.

Cicero’s hands came up and rested on the elf’s broad chest, his frail heart succumbing to tears once more, but now the warmth of relief rushed through him, of admiration for the Listener. This was the first time they’d embraced, and Cicero let himself unravel in that safe little space. 

Chac turned the Imperial in his grip, and sat himself down before the fire. Cicero stuttered and didn’t know what to do, until the elf led him to sit on his lap, his heart pounding still with uncertainty. Chac was not above cuddling the poor man if that’s what would help him, Cicero had eyes that looked starved for friendship and Chac was enthralled by it. 

"Sweet Listener" He whispers, feeling brave enough and falling into the Listener’s chest where he was welcomed for the first time. His body was hot and alive, and Cicero felt ashamed for wanting to reach up and hold him. He didn’t, hands fidgeting in his lap as he was hugged, sniffling and tears coming to a crawling stop. 

Chac couldn’t help it, the man may be mad but these things where trivial, he saw past it in Cicero and tonight he learns that there’s something much deeper inside the Jester than anyone could realize. He was eager to discover him, and held the man tightly until he was silent at last. 


End file.
